


what you see i see

by haipollai



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: Blindfolds, Light Bondage, M/M, Violent Thoughts, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky watches Steve's grip shift on the shield. So many small fragile bones under muscle and skin. Barely any decent protection. A hard stomp or sharp twist would shatter even a super soldier's hand.</p>
<p>Steve catches his eye, expression disguised and unreadable under the cowl. It makes Bucky's shoulders stiffen. He doesn't like not being able to read anyone's expressions, they give away intention. Not that he would fight Steve but the thoughts don't turn off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you see i see

**Author's Note:**

> vaguely inspired by [this photoset](http://colleenwinged.tumblr.com/post/41513851321/arpeggia-alan-john-herbert-the-body)

Bucky watches Steve's grip shift on the shield. So many small fragile bones under muscle and skin. Barely any decent protection. A hard stomp or sharp twist would shatter even a super soldier's hand.

Steve catches his eye, expression disguised and unreadable under the cowl. It makes Bucky's shoulders stiffen. He doesn't like not being able to read anyone's expressions, they give away intention. Not that he would fight Steve but the thoughts don't turn off. He clenches his feet and sinks deeper into the truck bed. Not thinking. Not thinking about how a well aimed blade would slide through the driver's vertebrae and sever his spinal cord. Or a well aimed kick would twist Jim's knee and shock and immobilize even an android long enough to render him unconscious before he flamed up.

Too many thoughts.

When the truck pulls back into the makeshift camp the Invaders are currently set up in, Bucky practically throws himself from the back, desperate to get away. To stop thinking about friends like that. The trees provide a strange sort of calm. He quickly pulls himself up into the higher branches. From his perch he can see the edges of camp and see into the woods in case anyone tries to sneak up that way. With his back to the trunk he feels something like secure.

So it's only inevitable that Steve comes stomping out. Stomping so Bucky will hear and he's not sure how it feels to be known like that. He whistles loudly so Steve knows which tree he's in but Steve doesn't follow him up.

"Come down!" Steve has a standard green army jacket over his uniform and the shield is out of sight. Bucky slowly makes his way down. It was an order plain and simple, Bucky doesn't disobey Steve's orders. But he doesn't get out of the tree completely, simply straddles a lower branch and waits. Steve sighs softly and pushes off the cowl, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles. "How are you?"

"Long mission but I'll be alright Cap." It's a lie, he doesn't even know what alright means.

"Come on, let me help."

He takes a step back so Bucky has room to jump down. It also puts him out of range so Bucky would have to wind himself up to reach Steve and announce any attack. It makes him feel strangely secure. Steve knows what he could do and takes necessary precautions. "Usual way?"

"If you want."

Bucky licks his lips nervously and finally drops to the ground. He shuffles his feet in the dirt - obscuring his bootprints - before getting up the nerve to look at Steve and his warm eyes directly. "I'd like that. A lot." Steve sighs as if in relief. "Hey, Rogers," he says as they fall into step together. "Never mind."

"Ask me in a bit."

They duck into the farmhouse that Captain America has been given a room in. It means they'll have to be quiet. Exert control. When the door closes behind them Steve catches Bucky's face in his hands. Even at eighteen and finally having grown into himself, Steve's hands feel huge. He kisses Bucky slowly, letting it slowly deepen until Bucky is pressed against him. Until now he didn't realize how cold he'd been until Steve's touch warms him.

He lets his hands drift down, opening the jacket and reaching the uniform underneath. Sternum and ribs under skin and fabric. All protecting vital organs. This close he would have no leverage and Steve could get his arms around Bucky to trap him. Lashing out with his legs would still be possible but Steve interrupts the thought by biting sharply at his lower lip.

"Guess we need to move faster," he murmurs, hands moving to Bucky's jacket to begin opening it.

"Sorry. I got distracted." He's flushed and not sure why which only makes him blush harder. Steve deserves someone who can focus who isn't haunted by lessons in how to kill. His jacket is pushed off and to the floor and his undershirt quickly follows.

"Boots," Steve orders, stepping back to get out of his own uniform.

Bucky licks his lips and forces himself back to the moment. He knows that nudity doesn't translate into weakness, not here. He has spent too much time around soldiers to be phased by a naked man but Steve is something special. Steve takes his breath away.

With clothes gone, Steve reaches for him again, pulling him close and slipping a leg between Bucky's. Steve could kill him, close his hand around Bucky's throat and squeeze until everything collapsed. Bucky wouldn't even have time to run out of air. Instead Steve slips an arm around his waist and easily picks him up. "You're too skinny," Steve mumbles against his lips before Bucky kisses him again. He doesn't wrap his legs around Steve's waist, letting each step jolt through him and rubbing his cock against Steve's hip.

He's dropped unceremoniously onto the bed, wincing at the squeaky of the springs. They didn't account for that. Steve straddles him like he doesn't even notice and Bucky's mind still runs through each scenario. A sharp knee up into Steve's crotch, followed by a jab to the neck and if he truly wanted to finish the job, the pencil Steve was sketching with just the night before is still within reach. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to think about this. For two minutes he doesn't want to be a killer, he wants the missions to stay out there and not follow him home anymore.

He feels Steve move and a moment later, he kisses Bucky's forehead softly. "It's okay Buck. We're safe."

"I can't-" he whispers.

"Yes you can. Keep your eyes closed." Steve gets off him, moves away from the bed and out of reach and Bucky lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He risks cracking his eyes open a little bit to see Steve rummaging in his rucksack but snaps them shut again when Steve stands. He follows the sound of Steve's feet back to the bed and then there's a hand on his arm and fabric being secured around his wrist, tying first one arm and then the other to the headboard. He opens his eyes fully this time, not caring what Steve will think. It's the ties from their uniforms and now they're keeping his arms bound. "We're safe," Steve repeats. "Do you trust me?"

Wordlessly, Bucky nods, still focused on testing the knots. Making sure he can't get out easily. Steve comes back with one more piece of cloth that he secures around Bucky's eyes, blindfolding him.

Steve waits, his hand lightly resting on Bucky's chest, waiting for him to adjust. "Bucky?"

He can hear from which direction Steve's voice is coming from, he knows he can probably twist himself enough to lash out but the detail is gone. The training that was embedded in him like a splinter by both the Americans and the British loosens its grip and he can be something like Bucky. He smirks up at the ceiling, forcing himself to not think about where exactly Steve is but just on the warm, steady hand on his skin. "Gonna fuck me or what Rogers?"

Steve chuckles and the bed squeaks again with his weight. Bucky doesn't have time to think about it, Steve's hands move over his skin. Teasing old scars and new ones, flicking a nipple and then his mouth joins in, wet and hot. Bucky is helpless underneath him, secured by him, and it feels _good_. He moans softly so Steve knows since finding the right words seems too challenging.

Steve responds by slipping a finger inside him. For a moment, Bucky thinks that he could possibly get his legs around Steve's neck, with enough force he could even snap it but there's no leverage in this position and Steve curls a hand around his cock, cutting off the thought completely. With his sight gone and his hearing slightly muffled from where the fabric falls, every touch cuts through him. It's what he needs to let go and Steve knows it.

Takes his time with preparing Bucky, sliding one finger slowly in and out. He tries to tell Steve they need to be fast, they could be interrupted but Steve continues his agonizing pace. Finally a second finger joins the first and Steve seems to be losing patience along with Bucky. He doesn't have to wait much longer for Steve to finally thrust in.

Bucky bites his lip hard enough he tastes blood on his tongue and he knows it's fucked up but it goes right to his cock.

Steve arranges Bucky's legs so they're over his shoulders so each thrust presses their bodies flush together. Until Bucky can't feel anything but Steve, doesn't think about anything but Steve. Steve's fingers dig into the pillow beside Bucky's head, protecting Bucky from his own strength just like Bucky has to protect Steve from his training. Bucky still tilts his head to rest his cheek on Steve's knuckles, wanting to feel him as much as possible.

Steve's lips touch his shoulder, understanding and acceptance of how fucked up they both are. His grip on Bucky shifts, becomes more focused. They've done this enough that Steve knows exactly how to touch him to get Bucky off and it doesn't take much longer. Steve swallows any sound he makes with a rough kiss, and moments later his hips stutter and he slumps on top of Bucky. Their ragged breathing fills the room.

"I wish I could draw you like this," Steve murmurs.

"Feel free, don't wanna move yet." He feels comfortable. Safe. Like he could close his eyes and his dreams won't be bombs and blood.

Steve kisses him again, flicking his tongue over the cut in his lip. "Your arms." He's careful as he unties each one, makes sure that feeling wasn't cut off and no harm done.

"Can I keep the blindfold on?" Bucky asks quietly.

Steve draws his fingers over the fabric and down over Bucky's cheek. "Ok."

Bucky curls up on his side, back to the wall and listens to Steve moving around the room. He comes back to the bed and Bucky listens to the soft scritching of his pencil over paper and tries to imagine what Steve could be drawing.


End file.
